Behind those hidden marked wrists
Are lies, skepticism and fears
Behind those calloused, clenched fists
Is a cauldron of uncontrollable tears.
Behind those evident scars
Is a constant cycle of sorrows
An imaginary fiend that mars
A twinge that only herself knows.
Behind those unappealing blotches
Are griefs, worries and insecurities
Inflictive pain worth a million degrees
Coupled with regrets and negativities.
Behind those ugly knife marks
Is an unfathomable, aesthetic heart
Who got fed up with judgment and remarks
But was actually dauntless from the start.
Behind the so-called 'stupid cuts'
Is depression that she tried to overcome
Abaft her courage and remarkable guts
Is a doltish move for some.
Behind those wrists is the sickening dogma
On people's choices regarding suicide
Cowardice- that is society's stigma
But the truth is, they're already dead inside.
absolutely maybe if wings flew
without a bird's body and the air
lifted ground as outer space
filled inner spirits
then all things might be
equal and if so then what?
Zero.
Which is arguably a 'something'
less than 1 but greater than
less than zero.
Words.
The devil's insidious plot to
madden the human mind with
intangible monsters that chip
away at the glass floor we
all ignore and rarely look
down upon
we might see the super-
structure of reality then.
What then?
HORROR.
:: 09-21-2018 ::
I have so many canvases.
Real,
My hand,
My wrists.
My favorite color to use is blue.
Green,
Purple,
Red.
Painting gets my mind off the world.
And the yelling,
And then shaking,
And then burning.
It’s so calming when it’s quiet.
Yelling downed out,
The silver gare of my brush,
My shivering hand.
You can’t make mistakes, just strokes.
Over,
And over,
On my wrists.
Broken hearts and bleeding wrists
What the hell happened to that childhood innocence
Where monsters that lived under the bed
Now lived inside our head,
Keeping us awake at night
Juice became alcohol
And Pepsi shots became tequila shots
Tell me, when did scraped knees
Become bleeding wrists
And when did we stop believeing
That tomorrow would be better
How did we become like this,
Broken and suicidal humans,
Begging for sickness or disaster
To give an excuse for the way we feel
Soon Would Split Both Wrists
Trump has been known to be a misogynist;
Good looking women loves and can't resist;
With much regret,
We here will set;
Sure wish he would soon split both wrists.
Jim Horn
Helga’s wrists are out of caress
I can’t touch’ em, this is true,
Full of woes I’m really jealous,
Pain is same as songs, anew
I am blaming Fate, that’s wicked,
But I know myself, no one
will suggest another ticket
for my way, sky’s deaf. It’s done.
All her deeds are complicated
There’s no word of mine to save.
Telling, sorry, I’m so naked,
I’m not close I’m not so brave.
I slit my wrists
At the memory of two fists
Coming down on my face
I can't help but feeling out of
place
Why does happen to me
I can't help who I might be
Don't you have any memory of
us?
I never put up a fuss
But you still hate your youngest
daughter
Even though you are my father
I used to love you dearly
But now I hate you clearly
I can't take the abuse
When I only get used
I'm going to die
So it's time to say goodbye
Are you even worth my time?
Because I'm running out
Why you are up and about
Abusing me so
Why did you have to get so
low?
I have taken enough blows
My heart is broken
And my mind is coming undone
My wrists are bloody
Look at them and study
That's my life
And you had no right
To force them into this light
They are red
And I am now dead
A story is told
Just by the look of it
You see it starts to unfold
It's hard to take in just a bit
So many memories
I take them all with me
I pull at my sleeves
So that no one see
I don't want to hurt anyone
Even when they've hurt me
I'm fragile
Yet they still break me
The sharp edge
catches the light on my
wrist like a bangle that was
meant to be there
The blade has teeth but
doesn't smile
it just knows, it just understands
me
and my shaking fingers
like a servant
it will do as I ask
like a slave
there is no choice
like a friend
it loves me more than others
who find themselves
on the opposite side
of my locked
bathroom door
And now I call, now I let fall
all of the change
I would never see come to pass
I hold tight to the razor edge
and bury it through my vanishing skin
I can't win, but I will be here
fighting back the world
with a leaking heart
Which spills off my arms...
onto a desensitized, white floor
This is my door, my way
my red choice forming pools
around my fallen, slumped hands
I just want to be understood
I just want to show
all this color within
And you can have it now
I give you all of me
colorless and empty
Since now I finally make it right
I've finally saved
my
life...
Open your wrists
Let the blood leak out
In a crimson river of tears
Allow it to fall
Upon tile grounds
Making the color unclear
Open your mouth
Let a scream slip out
And echo against lonely walls
Allow it to linger,
To fill quiet airs
Then back in your ears, let it crawl
Open your mind
Let it cluelessly wander
With nothing clouded in your brain
Allow it to focus
On life or on death
And if scars will forever remain
Open your heart
Let it never forgive
Those who've caused wounds so deep down
Allow it to rage
Against misunderstanding,
Let it yell the loudest silent sound
Open your wrists
Let the pain leak out
In a crimson river of sorrow
Allow it to fall
Upon off-white grounds
And remember there's always tomorrow
I'm numb. I'm indifferent. I don't love or hate you anymore. I'm luke warm and being spit
out of God's mouth... There's so much room now with out you in my universe. I told myself
I would, and you kept interrupting. Barging in through the door without knocking the way
you always do. I don't live there anymore. I've traded sand for chalk and the water tastes
better hear. I hope to never see you here in my new home... you are not allowed and
unwelcomed. You are gone so forget the goodbyes and tears. The season of change is upon me
and my fire burns bright through out the night. My tears cleaned away the foul past and my
sights are focused on coming years.
Fear
loathe
pity us Not
We scars
so judiciously brought into existence
by silent shreds
of emotion:
Jagged sighs,
wretched smiles,
come journey Dysfunction.
We beg your brave outsiders' senses
to peer
Are you
Perplexed by soft whispers
that emanate Clear
from each
line?
Does our breadth
of a slice
of depth
of vice
the stripping of seams
to bloodlines
within,
defy perfect dreams
of sweet nectar
skin?
Dare you touch these velvet ropes
muddied
from cold steel
hue
now dry
in caked puddles
of lost hopes,
once winding
thick
through?
Fear
loathe
pity us Not
We scars
so judiciously sought into existence
by silent shreds
of promise:
Sound larks
of empathy's
song,
Heed the marks
of our concern,
liquid and long...
We merely yearn
to be forgotten
in realms of healing
Hope
begotten.
Curling 'round the wrists of men
scent of soda, salty skin
burning asphalt and the like
mentholated, acrid sky
Simmered hint of peppermint
lager froth and dart board dust
brisk of midnight on their brow
jaw a concrete bite
Silver watches in their glow
holding scents of lemon musk
brandied oil, wishes too
from every girl they've met
Work is there right at their wrists
melting steel and stamping sleet
backward masked and fortunate
snap of smoke and sky
Earthen ginger, piped and singed
braided breath of momentum
granite blood and calloused hands
centered feet and grease
Held at bay in warm appeal
shadows way past five o'clock
Carved out strong and seared robust
these wrists inclined to labor.
I won’t cut my wrists to get your attention
I’m not like her
I don’t have to bribe you with my suffering
I’m perfectly sane
As sane as you can be when you live around these people
I won’t spend my time bent over a toilet to get your attention
I’m not like her
I don’t have to win you over with my looks
Though I already have
I’ve got personality
Which is more than I can say for her
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